


Ritual of Return

by Misaki_kaito



Category: Hetalia - Axis Powers
Genre: America, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaki_kaito/pseuds/Misaki_kaito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred F. Jones saw no way out of this. He had no other choice. He was going to die. Alone. For his Nation. For his people.</p><p>To bring back the shining beacon of hope that he embodied.</p><p>The Ritual was waiting, and his people needed him. It was time to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Ritual of Return

**Title:** Ritual of Return

 **Disclaimer:** I wish.

 **Pairings:** No pairings, really. Alfred/World. A lot introspective and retrospective stuff. May become more than a one-shot.

 **Rating:** T

 **A/N:** I was thinking this when I was reading CigfrainSol's fic, Decadence. It was my inspiration.

* * *

America was so tired. Alfred was dying.

His energy was depleted, he could barely move, he was starving, he was shivering, and he was alone. No one cared about him. And that's perhaps what hurt the most.

"Come on Alfred," He whispered to himself, "You can do this." Alfred felt his people suffering, felt their sickness and each of their deaths. He felt his land decay from its once fertile rolling fields to barren land. Nothing was growing. All of that potential that was supposed to last for centuries, for millennia, for forever was gone. Wasted. Corporations polluted anything they couldn't use, didn't properly dispose of their toxic waste, killed lakes and streams with man-made poison, dammed the water that was left just to sell it for profit... America was gone. America was murdered. Murdered at the hands of corporate greed and government corruption.

Another Great Depression hit, and there was no strong government to protect or shelter them. America wasn't the land of the free or the land of opportunity. People were slaves to their debt, and once they went bankrupt, they had no home, no shelter, nothing. They wandered the streets, trying to find a job, but there were no jobs to give. There was no money for food and no money for housing. The people were dying of hunger and thirst in his streets, and freezing to death in the winter. The government was so weak that it shut down. America became weak.

The United States of America divided.

There was only time enough to elect their last president, and though she tried to help, America still fell. Had it been even a year earlier, she would have made a difference, but everything crumbled around her before her first Hundred Days were over. She lost her Vice President, her husband, to an assassin's bullet. A bullet that was meant for her. She raised her only child by him, a daughter, from the White House alone.

She was sitting at her desk, at a loss of what to do. Alfred could feel her hopelessness and despair. But her daughter was with her, and she had a spark of hope.

"It's going to be alright, honey. Everything will be alright," she whispered as she kissed the top of her daughter's head. Determination filled her soul as she envisioned the type of world she wanted her daughter to grow up in, and resolved to make that world come to life. As she consoled his children, Alfred knew what he had to do.

* * *

As Alfred/America staggered to the Oval Office, he saw the portraits of his presidents; his presidents of glory and dishonor, the presidents that sculpted and created the United States of America. He had helped of course; but his part was a guiding part, the part of letting the people decide and trust them to decide correctly.

Alfred was here since the first Native American Tribes roamed his fields, was created by the pitter-patter of feet on his soil. He was raised by a tribe that found him, and knew him to be important. But perhaps his Creation and his Death would open a new era for the United States. Alfred could only hope that the people would know what to do with the potential and identity he left behind.

George Washington, the First. The president that set the precedent for the rest. Thomas Jefferson, who doubled the United States' size with his purchase. Andrew Jackson, who showed that the common man could be president of the United States of America. James k. Polk, who fulfilled the Manifest Destiny. Abraham Lincoln, who sewed America up again when his States ripped him apart. Theodore Roosevelt, the first to support Alfred's lower classes. What he was doing in the Republican Party, Alfred never knew. Woodrow Wilson, who stopped the indulgence and corruption of the Gilded Age, and worked himself to the bone to uphold Democratic ideals. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who helped pull his people out of the First Great Depression, and who raised the hopes and dreams of America. His greatest presidents, and his greatest allies.

"Madam President?" He croaked from the doorway, "You have no idea how proud I am of you." She abruptly lifted her head to stare at Alfred, before she jumped up from her seat.

"Alfred! What are you doing up? You're not well!" She fussed, and Alfred smiled.

"You are going to be this Nation's mother, Madam President. You will build it back up from its ruins, and help raise the United States to its peak again. I know it." She looked at Alfred with a sad smile.

"Alfred F. Jones, you better stop flirting with me this minute. Now go back to bed and rest. Alright?" Alfred matched her smile with one of his own, and she could see the terror and hope and sadness lingering in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not going to see you ever again. I'm not going to see any of the other Nations ever again. After I leave this building, I won't ever come back." She stood there, frozen. Hundreds of plans to keep him from leaving, but she knew if Alfred was determined enough, she couldn't hold him. "I want you to tell them I used the Ritual of Return. And to tell them I loved them all. Will you? Please?" Alfred asked, coughing slightly. He didn't have much time left. He was so tired.

"What do you mean? What ritual? Alfred-"

" _Please."_

"...I will."

"Thank you. Good bye. I will always be with you," He kissed her forehead, wished her a good presidency, and left.

By the time he made it back to his own apartment, it was sunset, and the sun was a brilliant orange and red. He smiled wistfully, as he knew he would never see it again as himself. He spent his last few hours as Alfred F. Jones on the Earth preparing to heal his people.

He went to his backyard, and dug a shallow ditch with his one good shovel. He always meant to take up gardening, but never found the time. Alfred smiled bitterly. He knew there was no time for him anymore. With what little sugar he had left he scattered it upon it, and poured his blood into the ditch. He took off his shirt, and stood on one side of the ditch, and looked in front of him. The light from the sun was fading, but he could see clearly.

Before him, he could see himself as the United States of America, proud, energetic, foolish and naive. He saw what he would lose. He saw himself, with his terror of ghosts, and love for junk food, and his naiveté, and trust and vindictiveness and grudges. He smiled sadly, and closed his eyes and said,

"I accept the price for the restoration of my Nation. I agree to become the land once more and feel its pain to return prosperity to my people and my country. I agree to become America and to forsake my identity of Alfred F. Jones."

The wind whipped around him, and he crumpled to the ground, that once immortal body now a lifeless shell.

America was the land again. Seedlings long dormant found the strength to sprout, wispy clouds far above found themselves heavy with rain and the dying found the strength to live. The depressed broke out of their stupor and looked at the world with new eyes, while the ruthless and desperate found kindness and hope within their souls. As the sky tore open with its first storm in ages, people ran out of their houses and danced, and children laughed and played in the water.

America jolted, and came alive.

Alfred F. Jones died.

* * *

Review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Ritual of Return

Title: Ritual of Return

Disclaimer: I wish.

Pairings: No pairings, really. Alfred/World. A lot introspective and retrospective stuff.

Rating: T

* * *

"What is he thinking?" grumbled England as he filed into the Amphitheater with the other Nations. He had come, along with the other nations, when America called for an Emergency meeting. And it was an emergency ; America sank into depression, and the other countries were sliding fast behind him. Arthur sighed in frustration as he remembered the past few weeks of trying to stop his Nation from sinking, from grabbing at every opportunity to keep England from sinking. Arthur knew the other Nations were doing the same, and that it was all anyone could do to keep their country from falling.

When everyone was settled, Arthur noticed that America hadn't arrived yet- instead there was a woman sitting in Alfred's seat, staring somberly at the podium in front of her.

"He called this meeting, right?" asked Matthew, also known as Canada, who was sitting on Arthur's left. Francis, more commonly known as France, sat on Arthur's right.

"Mon cheri, you are talking about America, oui?" said Frances as he leaned his elbows on the table. " Then oui, he did. "

"Then why is he so late?" complained England. But then the bell that signaled the start of the meeting rang, and they all settled into their seats and quieted down, waiting for Alfred to burst in, and start the meeting in his usual obnoxious manner. But it wasn't Alfred who walked up to the podium ; it was the woman who was sitting his seat.

She stood at the podium and tested her mike. She cleared her throat nervously before she started to speak,

"Hello. My name is Dina Ross, and I am the president of the United States of America. I have called this meeting on behalf of my Nation to inform all of you that Alfred F. Jones will be unable to attend or participate in any future meetings of the United Nations for the foreseeable future. The future presidents of the United States and I will take over that duty. "

The room was silent for a second, as the gathered Nations processed this information. Then shouts broke out, and people were arguing and too many were talking at once. To restore order, Dinah was forced to use her gavel to cut through the noise. England sat in stony silence, and when everyone grew silent, he pitched his voice and asked,

"How do we know that you are the real President of the United States ? We haven't heard anything about you in the past year. And why isn't Alfred here to inform us of this news himself?" Dinah grew still at England's blatant hostility, and was silent for a few seconds before she answered his inquiries.

"I was elected right before everything crashed, " She said quietly, "There were no funds for publicity stunts and the like. I am here while he is not, because he wanted me to tell you something that I do not understand, but I think you will. He asked me to say that he loved all of you, and he wanted to let you know that he had used something called the Ritual of Return. "The hall grew deathly silent as all fidgeting stopped, and blood drained from the faces of all present in the room. Dinah shifted uneasily from where she stood, and asked, "Can you explain it to me what is actually is?"

Her question broke the daze the Nations were in, but only Japan answered the President's question.

"The Ritual of Return is a ritual known to all of us Nations. It is the last ditch effort for a Nation, to save their country and people in exchange for the surrender of their identity," Kiku said, quietly but audibly, "As personifications of our Nations, we take away a little bit of potential from our country; not enough to be noticeable in normal times, but enough to be able to boost a dying land and its people. The personification becomes the land, and takes its pain onto him or her."

"Where was Alfred last, madam?" asked Francis, his hands spasmodically clenching the edge of the table. He, Arthur, and Matthew, along with a few other Nations looked ready to run out of the room.

"I think he went home…" She trailed off, "He said that he was going home, and the closest place for any kind of privacy is at the Star, a house on the grounds of the White House."

And then the hall was full of sound and rushing as multiple nations flipped open their cell phones to call their countries for flights to America. They all rushed out of the room as one, leaving Dinah alone in the Amphitheater. She sighed and flipped open her own phone to call her Service; it was time to go home.

By the time she made it back to her own country, the other Nations were waiting impatiently outside the White House gates.

"Why will they not let us in?" asked Japan, and England was about to answer him when the gates opened due to a signal from Dinah. She led the flock to Alfred's house, which was actually quite a distance away from the main house.

Once they entered the house, loud shouts of Alfred's name rang out, and people rushed everywhere. It was only a minute before someone cried out,

"He's here! In the backyard!" The Nations rushed to the back door to find Arthur cradling Alfred's body, Matthew and Francis kneeling beside him.

They all took in the shallow water-filled ditch, and the smell of blood. Tears were streaming down Arthur and Matthew's faces. Ivan, also known as Russia, stepped forward to stand beside Francis and Matthew, and put the sunflower he was carrying on Alfred's body. Arthur flinched at the sudden action, but gently laid Alfred's body on the grass, and stepped back from it as well.

"We can still speak to America, if not Alfred, at least," said Arthur as he stepped towards the ditch Alfred had dug. He started to chant in Gaelic, and the pool of blood and water shone as words made of light were etched around it. A form rose from the bloody water, and as it took shape, the other Nations gasped.

It was Alfred, and they looked in confusion from Alfred's still body on the ground and the one forming in front of them. As the ghost-Alfred's features sharpened, they saw a fundamental difference between this one, and the Alfred they knew. It was America they were speaking to, not the happy-go-lucky personification they once knew.

"Why have the Nations of the World congregated on my soil?" America asked, folding his arms as he surveyed those gathered before him. The hundreds who were present swarmed the large backyard, dwarfing it and making the once open space crowded with bodies of other Nations.

"Alfred!" Matthew cried out as he saw the apparition before him. America's eyebrows furrowed in concentration before his eyes lit up in recognition.

"Canada! My northern brother! What brings you here?" Matthew smiled in slight relief.

"Don't you remember? You are Alfred, aren't you?" He asked hopefully. Hope shone slightly in his eyes, as he looked upon America, who was greeting him as Alfred would.

America's smile faltered and died. He shook his head before saying,

"No. I am the United States of America. I take the form of the last one sacrificed when summoned. He is the one you are speaking of, correct ? Alfred F. Jones … He was a lively one "

"Does that mean he will never come back?" asked Matthew.

"He will not, " said America as he shook his head. " Let me tell you all something of my history. The Nation of the Native Americans was once on the brink of collapse as well. She-Who-Builds-The-Sky was her name, and she sacrificed her identity to save her peoples. She became me, and we uplifted our people from starvation and brought back the rains and renewed the soil. When the Native Americans were one again at the peak of their civilizations, Alfred and Matthew were born from the ashes of her funeral pyre. Alfred did not give his identity up until now, and neither have any of you in the past, though the Ancient ones did pass the knowledge down through the ages before they died from their falls, " America smiled ruefully, " You all loved your lives, even though depressions and economic crises hit you hard, and you were tempted to give them up to save your people. In a way, you were all stronger than the Nations who came before you."

"So basically, we're the most stubborn personifications of our Nations so far?" said Romano as he and Feliciano stepped up in front as one, with Ludwig AKA Germany and Antonio, also known as Spain, following the Italian twins as they pushed their way to the front.

"Yes," said America, "I do not understand, however, why all of you are still talking to me. The Ritual is not yet complete. You have to burn my former body, and bury the ashes in the earth. She-Who-Paints-the-Sky had her tribe to bury her ashes- Alfred only had you all. Respect his last deed as a personification, and complete his Ritual. In time, I will return to the world of Man. Until then, you all must watch for my return." He curled up and vanished into thin air, the only evidence of the Ritual left was Alfred's cold, still body laying on his soil.

The backyard was silent except for the whistling wind. Russia was the first to move, and the first thing he did was take out his bottle of vodka and pour it over Alfred's body. Cries of rage and surprise were heard from England and Canada as France struggled to pull Russia away from Alfred's body.

"What are you doing?" said England as he walked menacingly towards Russia.

"To complete the Ritual, we need to burn him, da?" replied the Russian nonchalantly, as he continued his attempts at soaking Alfred with vodka. France struggled to keep Ivan from further soaking Alfred's body in the highly flammable liquid.

"Yes, " agreed Matthew, "But we are going to do it the right way. We'll give him a funeral and cremation worthy of the hero he was. Ivan? Will you carry him? We need to lay him under those two trees, and get one of his flags." Matthew pointed to two olive trees that stood with their branches entwined, supporting each other equally.

"Of course, Matvey," said Russia as he picked up Alfred's body, and walked to the trees Matthew was pointing at.

"Arthur! Can you go into his house, and see if you can find one of his flags? Francis, can you find some incense? Feliciano, Romano, Ludwig, can you guys see if you can find any lighter fluid or gasoline? Yao, Kiku, help me find some wood to put around him. We need to find some of the cedar trees I know he planted around here, " said Canada, putting various Nations to work to complete the Ritual, "We don't have a lot of time; we need to finish the Ritual by sunset. We're late as it is. "

"Why is that?" asked Peter, also known as Sealand. He was one of the younger Nations, and wasn't as knowledgeable as the older ones on the rituals a Nation needed to know.

"By the looks of it, he started the ritual yesterday, and usually the body is supposed to have been cremated at this point- otherwise, when the nation woke up to the Sun, it would not know which body to awaken in- as the personification or the land," Canada quickly explained, "It just shows how strong America really is, to be able to concentrate on staying the land instead of going back to his body. It would have been a lot easier to come back alive as Alfred again. " He dashed away and headed for the trees, shouting some more orders at Nations who were loitering.

By the time they had everything, the sun was already setting, and people were running around frantically, trying to finish the preparations for the Ritual before the light died. Finally there was enough wood for a pyre, thanks to the efforts of Canada, China, Japan, Russia and Mexico. France had managed to find some incense-perfume thing to burn, and England found an American flag.

Suddenly, there was a trembling, and all of the Nations could feel the earth tremble beneath their feet. The cause of the vibrations flooded into the backyard not a moment later.

"Daddy!"

"Dad!"

"Father!" chorused the fifty States as they streamed into the backyard. The Nations were stunned into silence and stillness while Canada groaned his displeasure. He loved them all, he really did, but they bugged him just as much as his own provinces did. The States pushed the Nations aside with considerable strength, with Alaska, Texas, Hawaii, Massachusetts and California leading the lot of them. They took one look at the funeral pyre covered with the American flag, and rounded on England.

"What are you doing, you stupid limey!" said Massachusetts, who was rolling up her sleeves, and getting ready to pummel her other father.

"Why's Dad on that pyre? He should be helping us build America back up!" yelled Texas.

"Why isn't Daddy saying hello?" asked Hawaii plaintively.

"What the hell are all of you people doing here?" screeched California. The States started bickering with their respective fathers, and threatening violence along with military vengeance.

Louisiana and those that were part of the Louisiana Purchase immediately rounded on France, who looked like he wanted to disappear. England was getting an earful from the thirteen colonies and most of the Eastern coast, along with a state who looked suspiciously like Alfred himself. California and Florida started screeching at Spain, who covered his ears in an attempt at blocking them out. Hawaii, surprisingly, glared at Kiku, and started to speak softly at him while Kiku grew paler and paler. Ivan was being hounded by Alaska, and Texas went after Mexico. Canada lost all patience and finally screamed,

"QUIET YOU BRATS!" And he started swearing up and down in French and Russian, leaving Ivan and Francis shocked and amused at his repertoire of swears. He even dipped back into his pirate self with English swears that made even England's ears turn red. The States shut up immediately and cowered from the wrath of their "Uncle Mattie".

"Matthew? Where'd these kids come from?" asked Hungary, as she tried to look over the taller Nations' heads. Canada rubbed his face tiredly and said,

"Nations of the World? Meet the Fifty States of the United States of America. In other words; welcome to the North American family. My provinces should be home, running their lands. These fifty, however..." Canada gave them an evil glare before rounding on the lot of them, "When will you guys learn to use the connection you have with Alfred and the land? Even if he never taught you, I sure as hell did! Then you might have known what was happening, and stopped it! " Canada was crying again, though his face bore no sorrow- instead it was filled with acute rage, at both himself and the world his brother died to save.

"Uncle Mattie..." chorused the States quietly, unnerved and shocked by the sudden change in their normally quiet uncle. He wiped his eyes furiously, and continued to speak,

"Well, now that you're here, you guys can help complete the ritual." He got the matches, and lit one, and threw it onto the cloth soaked in gasoline. Immediately, the flames started to burn the pyre, and it was soon blazing, the light a sorrowful counterpoint against the setting sun. Canada spoke above the roar in a clear voice,

"He was the light of this world. He was my brother, and I loved him so much . He has been hurt over and over, and put a shining mask on to fool the world. He is brave, and he is a hero. He is Alfred, and he is strong," Matthew swallowed, and continued,

"He wanted to save everyone, but he couldn't save himself at first. He didn't know when to stop, when to stop tending to the injuries of others and to look at his own. He's incorrigible that way. He is America, and he is the Alfred we all knew. He is the one who saved us all." Matthew fell silent as he gazed stonily at the fire. He had said his piece- it was the others' turn now. England raised his voice to pay his last respects to one of his family,

"He is a bastard for doing this to us. But he was like a brother to me. I raised him when I found him, but he broke away from my power for freedom. He was stubborn and brave and a twat. But he was our twat. He was once my colony, but became a Nation. He was Alfred Freedom Jones, and he changed the world." There was silence, and Ivan was the one to raise his voice next.

"He was the one who played my games, the only one who could stand opposing me, matching my moves, toe to toe, eye to eye. I blinked, and he won- but we are still equals. The only two nations to have ever become Superpowers. He was my rival. He is my equal. He is America."

The other Nations spoke as well, and it was a long time before Massachusetts, the State who was elected by the others to represent them all, finally spoke,

"Alfred was our father- he found us in our states, adopted us, and raised us, though it took a hell of a long time for us to grow up. He cared for us, and we all love him, and even though we hurt him, he welcomed us back with open arms. He endured our rebellious phases, and recessions, and problems. He was our father, and we will guard America until the new Nation of America comes in his honor." She gave a salute that the other States copied, before the States streamed out of the backyard, none of them looking back.

The backyard felt empty after they left, and the nations shuffled around, uncertain of what they should do. In the end, most of them left, leaving Russia, Canada, England, France, Japan, China, Spain, Germany, both Italys and Mexico to their vigil. They stayed until the flames and coals died out, and then left for their own countries, determined to make the world better in honor of the sacrifice made by one of their own.

A wind blew and swept the ashes of the fire in a vague form of a human who saluted the backs of the Nations before they left, and the ashes were dispersed by the wind to the four corners of the land.

* * *

I hope you guys liked it! Please review and tell me what you think!


	3. Ritual of Return Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Title:** Ritual of Return

**Title:** Ritual of Return

 **Disclaimer:** I wish.

 **Pairings:** No pairings, really. Alfred/World. A lot introspective and retrospective stuff. May become more than a one-shot.

 **Rating:** T

 **A/N:** I was thinking this when I was reading CigfrainSol's fic, Decadence. It was my inspiration.

* * *

It has been a decade since that depression, and the United States of America has flourished. Dina Ross did lead America out of the Depression, using every last bit of the newly restored resources to help the people and weed out corruption. People were more careful of the balance of power, and were more willing to compromise in light of the Second Great Depression. She put limits on what a corporation could and could not do, and made sure that every piece of technology was greener than grass. Schools were opened again, and businesses started running. She was hailed as the president who beat the odds, and became a symbol of the ideals of America. She won her elections in a landslide, and then she stepped down to support her daughter.

The new personification had shown up in the White House two years after Dina retired from presidency. Her name is Amelia F. Jones. The new president, Lindsey Shaun had found her, and America was able to meet Dina again. She was a fully grown adult when she was found and had all of the memories of her other life. She adjusted to her life as a woman (Francis was overjoyed, until England started shooting glares at him. Ivan was a bit leery, until Belarus went after him with his own pipe. The other Nations quickly learned to not comment on it.) and was still the nation they knew before the depression. But she was just a little quieter, a little more contemplative, and some of her ideas were now somewhat plausible.

Women were now the supporters and in the spotlight of America. They gained more and more popularity, until it was apparent that America was truly the land of equality and freedom. Amelia explained to her fellow Nations that this was probably the reason why she came back as a girl.

She still called herself the "hero", and ignored the muttered corrections of "heroine" (Old habits are hard to break). She was still Alfred in soul, and she shone like the sun once again. She was reborn, changed yet unchanged. She adapted, and survived.

She led her country out of the dark alongside her presidents, and she was complete.

* * *

Review and tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please comment! I will love you forever if you do!


End file.
